


Sup

by Huggle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel, Creepy, Dean in Trouble, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Poison, Sam In Trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The old man leaves Sam no choice.  He has Dean, and this is the price for getting him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sup

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an Oh Sam meme prompt.

This…

It’s the only way, _he knows_ , but it takes everything he has not to just break and run.

But the old man is smiling at him and holding out the cup – _it’s china, fragile and thin and there’s a crack up one side distorting the faded pattern, shouldn’t it be a chalice with a sharp rim that cuts at his mouth_ – and nodding encouragement at him.

Sam swallows, then he puts the cup to his mouth and swallows for real. And it’s dark and bitter and he wants to curse and spit in the old man’s face but he doesn’t. He can’t.

The cup falls from his fingers, empty, and the man tuts at him, but Sam can’t feel his fingers anymore. Or the rest of him.

He pitches over, lying on his side, watching as the old man gets up – withered and creaking – and moves to stand over him.

::

The only light is from the moon. It casts a wane glow over the high stalks that surround him, a makeshift hide that reduces his world to that small patch of sky he can see when the old man rolls him onto his back.

“Good boy,” he whispers. “Such a good boy. And I’ll keep my word, boy, you’ll see. You did for me, I’ll do for you.”

Cold gnarled fingers shove his T-shirt up, exposing his skin to the cold, and those same fingers ghost across him. 

They’ll start to hurt in a minute, Sam knows – he can’t say he went into this blind. Every part, every detail was explained so thoroughly. A verbal contract, and he can’t back out now even though he wants to so bad.

He’s in, now. Has to see it through whether he wants to or not. 

He doesn’t.

“Too late to change your mind, boy,” the old man says. 

Sam realises that low whine is coming from himself.

“You want your brother to live, don’t you boy? Don’t want to let him down again, do you?”

No, Sam doesn’t and he won’t.

He tries to focus on the moon, bright and pale and the only impassive witness to what’s about to happen.

Then the old man’s fingers dally across Sam’s ribs and he jerks back like he’s been scalded.

“You’re _marked_!” he hisses. “You…. You little bastard, you’re _protected_!” He looks around wildly as if he expects something to fall on him at any moment.

Then there’s a pressure building around them and Sam knows that feeling. 

Castiel’s there a moment later, and he glances down once at Sam before he hauls the old man to his feet by his neck.

“You’ll trade no more men to prolong your own life, Ezra. The punishment laid upon you by my brother was earned.”

“This?” Ezra shrieks. “A hundred years, like this? And you have the gall to chide me! I suppose you’ll kill me now for my sins.”

“Just for the ones you committed tonight,” Castiel says, and then he lets the dead man drop. 

“Sam.” Castiel kneels next to him, and Sam wants so desperately to ask, to plead. 

_Dean, is he alright, did you find him? Is he safe? Please, Cas, please help me._

Hot tears form and break, and Cas pulls Sam into his arms. He holds him there, lets him cry it out, whispering words that bring relief and a sense of safety. 

_Dean’s fine, he’s in the car. Just rest and I’ll heal you._

_I’m here._


End file.
